By Mojeed Alabi, ACRC Lagos uptake lead

Media coverage can play a critical role in securing political traction for urban issues and ensuring accountability of decision makers. While researchers are ideally placed to highlight new trends, problems and potential solutions, in practice, there is often a gap.

There is a critical need for a symbiotic relationship between journalists and academic researchers. Without researchers, journalists risk superficial reporting, and without journalists, research remains locked away from the public that needs it most.

To address this, DevReporting – in partnership with the Pro-Poor Development Media Network (PDM Network) and with support from ACRC – recently convened a capacity building workshop for 30 journalists and researchers in Lagos, Nigeria’s commercial capital.

The workshop aimed to strengthen the link between academic research and development journalism by equipping selected journalists to produce evidence-informed and advocacy-driven stories on key urban issues such as water, sanitation and hygiene (WASH), flooding, evictions, housing gaps and other urban challenges in Lagos. It also sought to support ACRC researchers in communicating their findings more clearly and in ways that are accessible to the public, thereby enhancing the impact of research on public discourse and policy.

By Vivian Halerah Kangole, Nambi Inviolah, Nalubulwa Sumaiya and Nakigudde Saidat

Ggaba Market, located on the shores of Lake Victoria in Makindye Division, Kampala, is one of the city’s most lucrative markets for fish, fresh produce and basic essentials. For years, the market has battled with seasonal flooding, most significantly in 2021. Several factors – such as the rise in Lake Victoria water levels, underground springs, runoff water due to heavy rains and blocked drainage channels – were linked to flooding.

The blocked drainage creates small lagoons of water within the market, causing vendors to shift to alternative spaces. A young female vendor who had a well-established silver-fish (mukene) stall in the middle of the market was forced to move. She said, “The flood destroyed my stall, and I now have no permanent stall to work from. I must wake up early and find space on the ground to lay my foodstuffs and start working.”

What is soil filling?

Walking around the market, piles of small and big murram soils – a mixture of gravel, sand and clay – are evident. These are a temporary solution, commonly known as “soil filling”, to address the mini-flooding across the market. Vendors who operate along the market pathways mobilise each other to purchase murram soil, in order to cover the waterlogged surfaces to ease access to the market. As a result, vendors believe raising the ground surface level will prevent flooding.

But is soil filling a solution to flooding or just a temporary bandage, potentially leading to a worse situation?

How reliable and effective is soil filling?

In the context of Ggaba Market, soil filling has offered temporary relief from stagnant water. It has created a clean, levelled ground to work on and made navigation easier for customers and vendors.

Another vendor of fresh produce says, “When it floods, roads become slippery and the market becomes inaccessible, and we end up not working because sometimes the water rises up to the ankle level … No customer is ready to risk walking on a slippery surface, most customers opt for alternative markets, like Kibuye.”

Vendors’ beliefs around soil filling seem to be valid in terms of providing a safe work environment and customer motivation. On the other hand, vendors at the centre of the market face a dilemma, since soil filling was not affordable to them, and stalls on lower ground suffered more from the consequences of flooding than those on higher ground.

Is there cause to worry?

Ggaba Market lies on a slope, making it more prone to erosion. Merely placing soil on the ground surface without compaction means continuously refilling. Compaction work is needed to ensure that roads and pathways are firm and stable, but this practice has led to narrowed access roads, making movement in and around the market difficult.

Manda Road (which translates to “Charcoal Road”) used to provide direct access to the charcoal section of the market. But it has now narrowed to such an extent that heavy vehicles are unable to transport timber and charcoal directly to the stalls. Instead, vendors incur extra costs to pay labourers to offload and carry goods to the stalls. The narrowing of paths has also created congestion in the market and blocked emergency access routes for ambulances and fire engines, which may lead to future disasters and safety hazards.

We also discovered that vendors at the fish fillet section had collaboratively constructed a wood and timber platform over the drainage channel and the flooded areas, creating a deck designed to keep their workspace above the knee-level rising water. Debris, waste and mud eventually became trapped underneath this platform, reducing the space needed for water to flow. This adaptation – an effort to make the market safe for normal operations – would in effect seal off the market’s main drainage channel.

Survival or progress?

The issue of flooding in Ggaba Market is not merely about water, mud or makeshift piles of murram soil. It reflects a larger, structural failure that has pushed vendors to engineer temporary solutions in a space that should be safe and functional. Soil filling, wooden platforms and narrow roads are not a sign of a market trying to progress but symptoms of a market trying to survive without adequate support.

It is becoming clear that flooding in Ggaba is not only an environmental challenge but also a governance concern. Vendors have taken the initiative to fix challenges at their own expense, despite existing leadership. These innovations, however admirable, should not be the default solution to a widespread market crisis. The authorities who are mandated to manage and maintain market infrastructure need to do their part. Otherwise, Ggaba Market and its vendors will remain stuck in a cycle of recurring vulnerabilities and temporary fixes for survival.

Informal waste workers are the unseen backbone of Nairobi’s waste value chain. Moving from households to dumpsites, then to recyclers, farmers, businesses and other end users, they keep solid waste flowing – filling the gaps left by formal systems.

In ACRC’s initial foundation phase research, we identified inadequate solid waste management as a key systemic challenge in Nairobi, which particularly impacts the city’s informal settlements. Waste from other parts of the city often ends up dumped in lower income areas, creating environmental and health hazards for residents.

Taking this forward, Nairobi’s community research team lead, Wavinya Mutua, set out to better understand the dynamics of solid waste management across the Mathare subcounty. Rather than relying on traditional methods, the goal was to generate a body of community-held knowledge about waste flows in Mathare. Informal waste workers planned, collected and analysed the data, before determining next steps.

A new research report explores the creation of the community-led research strategy, the multiple informal actors involved in the different stages of Mathare’s waste value chain, the crucial political dynamics underpinning the operation of dumpsites and holding grounds, and recommendations for further research to expand knowledge of Nairobi’s informal circular economy.

Key takeaways from the research report include:

1. Community knowledge is a vital research tool for understanding how urban systems operate. It allows for the complexities of Mathare’s waste value chain to be understood in ways that conventional datasets miss and ensures that those directly affected by urban issues are actively involved in the research process. Employing waste workers as co-researchers and learning from their lived experiences creates a far more accurate picture of local dynamics and how different systems interact.

2. A huge gap exists between waste generation and removal in Mathare. Of the 169 tonnes of waste generated daily in Mathare, only 57% is collected. Most of this collected waste ends up in the subcounty’s holding grounds, before eventually being transferred to the Dandora landfill. Waste collection alone therefore does not remove the environmental burden borne by the subcounty. The remaining 43% of waste ends up flowing into illegal dumpsites or “dumping hotspots”, often clogging drainage systems, sewers and the Mathare River.

3. An informal waste industrial complex has emerged to fill gaps in government services. Although not sufficient to deal with the scale of the problem, the informal waste system acts as a critical substitute for municipal services and provides thousands of waste workers with low-level incomes. It includes a diverse range of actors – from waste pickers to aggregators – who drive an informal circular economy by reclaiming and recycling materials usually ignored by formal systems.

4. Government waste policies are often counterproductive, prioritising compliance over infrastructure. In treating illegal dumping as a compliance issue instead of a service failure, the Nairobi City County Government (NCCG) tends to penalise informal waste workers, rather than addressing deficits in its waste management infrastructure. The government effectively punishes these informal workers for what can be understood as rational adaptations to a persistent, systemic issue.

5. Informal settlements bear the burden of Nairobi’s broader waste issues. Waste flow dynamics are complex and heavily influenced by administrative boundaries and cross-border movements. Valuable commercial waste from wealthier areas of Nairobi flows into Mathare’s dumpsites, leaving the informal settlement to manage large volumes of waste without the necessary financial or operational support from the city.

Building on both ACRC’s foundational research in Nairobi and the community-led solid waste research captured in this report, an action research project led by SDI Kenya is currently underway in Nairobi’s Mathare informal settlements – aimed at improving holistic waste management and establishing productive public spaces.

By Olumuyiwa Adegun, ACRC Lagos in-city urban development research lead

A sweltering city

Climate change has unveiled challenges for urban centres in Africa, especially large cities like Lagos, Nigeria’s commercial capital. Lagos has a tropical savanna climate with distinct wet (often cooler) and dry (often hotter) seasons. Average monthly temperature can reach 35°C, with over 70% humidity in February and March, usually the hottest months in the year.

With a current population of approximately 20 million, the current rate of growth indicates that Lagos might become the largest city globally by 2100. Physical development patterns associated with the current urbanisation rate result in urban heat island (UHI) effects. There is a notable difference in temperature of up to 7°C between the dense, hotter central parts of Lagos and the peripheral areas of urban sprawl.

Urban heat in Lagos can be analysed through the lens of “cities as a series of material and social systems that are drawn together and interrelated in certain domains”, as conceptualised by ACRC. A systems approach is necessary to properly understand urban heat in Lagos. Heat impacts social systems – public health, economy (through livelihoods and financial implications of heat-related disasters), food security (for example, lower crop yield, post-harvest losses due to higher temperatures), education and so on.

The impact of heat is also apparent on urban materialities. The material situation often determines levels of exposure and adaptation to heat. For instance, energy and water are crucial to cooling persons or spaces.

Heat stress disproportionately affects informal settlement residents

Exposure to high temperatures and heat stress is unequally distributed in Lagos, with lower income households experiencing greater exposure. A recent heat stress analysis over Lagos metropolis shows that the most socioeconomically disadvantaged areas – those categorised as slums and informal neighbourhoods – were most affected, with “hot” heat stress conditions observed over 90% of the time.

The meteorological situations are exacerbated by physical conditions – the nature of dwellings (heat-absorbing wall materials, poorly ventilated rooms, and so on), overcrowding, absence of green spaces, poor service coverage and inadequate infrastructure, especially for water and electricity. Socioeconomic conditions also contribute to heat stress vulnerability. Many slum dwellers engage in informal work outdoors, which leaves them continuously exposed to extreme heat. For instance, street traders, waste scavengers, cart pushers and construction workers often endure long hours working in the direct sun.

Recent studies show that residents of Lagos’s informal settlements experience significant health challenges from exposure to excess heat. Dizziness, headaches, malaria and skin rashes are common heat-health problems that have been reported within some informal settlements in the city. These challenges are exacerbated through poor access to quality, affordable healthcare facilities.

Cooling strategies that residents deploy involve diverse practices often linked to water and housing features. The most popular responses are bathing, opening doors/windows, drinking water/fluids (hydration), staying outdoors and wearing light clothing. The use of cooling appliances such air conditioners is not common, due to electricity power cuts and the high cost of purchasing such appliances.

Heat action plan – a comprehensive strategy

A heat action plan typically contains a comprehensive strategy to prepare for, respond to and reduce the diverse impacts of exposure to extreme heat. The plan should include framework(s) for systematic heat monitoring, timely early warnings, preventive actions expected and targeted adaptation interventions, usually for those communities and groups who are most vulnerable.

Based on global standards and good practices, heat action plans should include:

1. A definition of a heat wave;
2. Preparedness and early warning systems;
3. Response mechanisms;
4. Coordination, implementation and monitoring;
5. Risk mapping and vulnerability assessment;
6. Public and stakeholder engagement;
7. Adaptation and long-term planning; and
8. Integration and governance strategies.

Learning from other cities

Lagos can learn from other cities. In February 2025, the City of Freetown launched its heat action plan – the first in Africa. The plan was developed considering the following principles that can be emulated:

> Equity and inclusion (ensuring all residents, especially those in vulnerable communities, can benefit from heat adaptation strategies);

> Data-driven and evidence-based planning;

> The pursuit of co-benefits (solutions that simultaneously deliver health, economic, environmental and social impacts);

> The promotion of nature-based approaches; and

> A commitment to community-centredness.

Ahmedabad, one of India’s largest cities, implemented South Asia’s first heat action plan after the deadly 2010 heatwave. The heatwave led to mortalities, with over 1,344 deaths recorded in May 2010 alone, a 43.1% increase over the baseline mortality rate. A group of epidemiologists showed that implementation of the heat action plan in the city led to a decrease in summertime mortalities in subsequent years, with the largest declines at the highest temperatures. This translated into averting over 1,000 deaths annually.

Acting, now!

The city of Lagos need not wait till heat reaches catastrophic levels before taking appropriate steps. There is an urgent need take steps to develop and start implementing a heat action plan.

Existing state resources and frameworks can be harnessed. To start, a chief heat officer should be appointed for Lagos, initially based within, or working directly with, the Lagos Resilience Office (LASRO), whose current multidisciplinary approach can be adapted for urban heat resilience. The chief heat officer would anchor the process of developing the heat action plan, coordinating the integrated and participatory process needed to create an inclusive plan.

The state cannot do it alone. In line with ACRC’s theory of change, commitment from elites, mobilisation of citizens, enhanced capacity of state officials as well as formal and informal coalitions are crucial to successfully creating and implementing an inclusive plan for the megacity. Beating the heat is a collective task.

By Jerry Okal, Rosebella Apollo and Jack Makau

An estimated 300,000 children in Nairobi’s informal settlements attend school each day without the certainty of a reliable meal.

While the Nairobi County’s “Dishi na County” programme has been hailed as a novel programme that has made meaningful progress since its launch in August 2023 – offering subsidised meals at KSh 5 per child in public schools – it currently reaches fewer than 40% of learners. The remaining 60%, largely enrolled in low-cost private schools known as APBET (Alternative Provision of Basic Education and Training) institutions, have no formal feeding programme. Where meals are available in these schools, families pay up to six times more than their public school counterparts.

APBET schools serve some of Nairobi’s marginalised and economically vulnerable families – mostly those living in informal settlements – yet they remain outside the county’s feeding infrastructure. This gap has real health and economic consequences: children who miss meals are less able to concentrate, attend school less regularly and are more susceptible to poor health and nutritional outcomes.

By the Heritage Institute for Policy Studies, as part of the ACRC Mogadishu transition project

An estimated 70% of Somalia’s population is under the age of 30. Young people living in the country’s capital city, Mogadishu, face a multitude of challenges – as explored in recent ACRC research.

Building on ACRC’s research in the city, the Heritage Institute for Policy Studies organised a three-day workshop on “Empowering youth for civic activism and urban citizenship”, in collaboration with ACRC and the Somali Gender and Equity Movement (SGEM). It aimed to equip young civic activists with the skills and knowledge to become influential leaders and advocates for positive change in their communities.

Unpacking the challenges facing young people in Mogadishu

There are a number of systemic, structural and cultural drivers behind the challenges facing young people in Somalia’s capital. Generations have endured chronic violence and limited access to justice, with this prolonged exposure to violence having lasting impacts on young people. Conflict between the Somali state and al-Shabaab since 2006 has left young people frustrated that while the involvement of youth in violence is often highlighted, their potential as agents of peace is rarely spotlighted yet equally significant.

According to a survey conducted by the Heritage Institute for Policy Studies (HIPS), over 70% of respondents believed that unemployed youth are highly vulnerable to recruitment by violent groups. Notably, nearly 70% of survey respondents were themselves unemployed, citing the lack of job opportunities and inadequate skills as the primary reasons.

The HIPS report also found that unemployment rates are disproportionately higher among young women and girls, driven by a range of factors, including persistent socio-cultural norms that confine women primarily to domestic roles.

ACRC’s youth and capability development domain research in Mogadishu found there to be very limited political participation and empowerment of young people in the city, with a lack of frameworks, laws or designated seats to guarantee involvement or representation at any level of government – federal, regional or local. A scarcity of national youth organisations, advocacy groups or coordinated movements was also highlighted.

Young people – especially women – are often sidelined during crucial political discussions and decision-making processes, while traditional governance models – dominated by clan elders – also tend to exclude youth and women from participating.

A new video showcases the power of collaboration between government, civil society organisations, development partners and local communities in delivering transformative and inclusive water and sanitation services to marginalised residents of the Mukuru informal settlements in Nairobi.

It highlights the successful expansion of the water and sanitation project in Mukuru Viwandani – through innovative approaches such as simplified sewer systems (SSS), prepaid water dispensers (PPDs) and a community-delegated management model.

First identified during the Mukuru Special Planning Area process as being suitable for informal urban settings, these solutions were piloted in Mukuru Kwa Reuben, and later scaled to seven villages with proven effectiveness.

With financial support from ACRC, Akiba Mashinani Trust (AMT) partnered with the Nairobi City County Government (NCCG), Nairobi City Water and Sewerage Company (NCWSC) and local communities to extend SSS and PPDs to Mukuru Viwandani, where residents had waited five years for improved services.

Lessons learned from implementation in Kwa Reuben significantly strengthened the roll-out in Viwandani. This expansion has since enabled access to water and sewerage services for approximately 8,000 households in the settlement.

Watch the video here:

By Adewumi Badiora, ACRC Lagos action research lead and senior lecturer in the Department of Urban and Regional Planning at Olabisi Onabanjo University

Nigeria is urbanising at a remarkable speed. Some of the world’s fastest growing cities are in the west African country.

With the current rate of urbanisation, Kano, Ibadan, Abuja and Port Harcourt will surpass the 10 million inhabitants mega city threshold by 2050. According to United Nations estimates, Lagos will be the largest city in the world by 2100, accommodating more than 88 million people, up from the present population of about 25 million.

The rapid urbanisation and other issues, such as climate change, limited public finance and extreme poverty, are putting pressure on the government to provide better basic public infrastructure, especially in informal settlements.

Streetlighting is one area of public infrastructure where there is a clear need, and potential, for improvement.

Streetlighting plays a crucial role in public safety and security, and it promotes inclusive social and economic development by boosting local commerce, street businesses and community engagement.

Conventional grid-based streetlights and other technologies like LED lights powered by solar energy have been installed in parts of Nigeria but are still lacking in many cities.

I have been researching various aspects of urban and community safety in Nigeria, particularly in the country’s south-west. I currently lead the African Cities Research Consortium safety and security domain action research in Lagos.

I co-authored a recent research report about the condition of streetlights in Lagos. I interviewed 17 key informants in a bid to understand the provision, challenges, quality and impact of streetlighting in Africa’s foremost mega city. Respondents included residents and community associations, state agencies, private sector companies, and nongovernmental agencies.

We found that streetlight provision by the state has been orientated towards elite neighbourhoods, while households in disadvantaged settlements have less access.

Nevertheless, low-income communities across the city have come together to drive progress. They have enabled residents to achieve some level of streetlight infrastructure in their neighbourhood by working with the local government, civil society organisations and NGOs.

We argue that solutions will only be found through inclusive engagements that push against established approaches to infrastructure development.

Multiple paybacks of streetlighting

Research was conducted in three selected communities: Ilaje-Bariga on the Mainland, Brazilian Quarters on the Island and Ajegunle-Ikorodu in the peri-urban area. The three communities have either past or ongoing streetlight projects being delivered via sponsorship or collaboration between the Community Development Association, state or nonstate institutions.

Economic and social benefits were particularly prominent. Residents feel safer going out after dark when streets are well lit, while workers feel safer walking to and from their homes early in the morning and at night.

Businesses on newly lit streets have seen increased revenue as a result of vendors and traders being able to operate for longer after nightfall.

A previous case study established that extending trading times beyond daylight hours could add tens of thousands of working hours daily to the economy.

A respondent commented: “Policing work is now better in the night and we do not need to rely on battery-powered torchlight while on street patrol or checks.”

Another added: “We used to have cases of robbery, but the streetlight makes everywhere lit like daytime … the hoodlums are no longer able to perpetrate their act.”

Hurdles of streetlight provisions

Some obstacles remain, however. Our research uncovered many reasons as to why streetlight projects are not long-lasting or are unsuccessful. Limited budgeting and politically driven procurement are key challenges.

We found that the high costs and limited state budgets mean that certain areas of the city are prioritised and other areas neglected. The ruling class receives more political and economic support.

Across the three communities researched, the average cost of installation of one solar streetlight pole is USD 200-800, compared to USD 1,150 for a conventional grid powered streetlight. The difference in operating costs is where the economics of solar powered, compared to conventional, streetlighting becomes most compelling.

Politically driven procurement spotlights the need to favour cronies on the selection, awarding and implementation of streetlight infrastructure. Projects are awarded in favour of individuals (usually party members and not necessarily an expert) in exchange for political support.

The lack of technical expertise at the local and state levels remains a critical barrier, according to our study. This is displayed in poor procurement processes, infrastructure maintenance issues and inefficient use of limited public funds.

Because of corruption, the full value of project allocation is rarely received by suppliers. As one respondent explained: “In most cases, the money allocated for projects does not get to us. There are bottlenecks here and there that will drain off most of the project fund.” This leaves limited capital to deliver quality infrastructure and streetlight projects are poorly delivered or abandoned before completion, for want of funds.

Other streetlighting projects are abandoned because succeeding regimes refuse to continue predecessor projects.

There is also the challenge of vandalism and theft involving streetlight equipment. There have been situations where “area boys” – Lagos street gangs – restricted streetlight installation and where equipment parts were stolen.

Overcoming the obstacles

The solutions can only be found through inclusive engagements. Our study recommends the following steps:

• Involve a wide range of players, particularly local communities, in planning and delivering streetlighting.
• Build an enabling environment for private-sector-led renewable solutions and investment in sustainable lighting technologies, such as LED lights.
• Create a robust regulatory framework to produce sustainable lighting technologies locally.
• Improve state budget and investment funding for streetlighting.
• Develop capacity in the public sector to plan, design, finance and deliver projects.
• Support low-income neighbourhoods and informal communities.
• Separate political, personal interests from good governance and ensure transparency in the procurement process in practice.

So far, the large-scale initiative involving the deployment of over 22,000 solar streetlights has engaged with residents in areas like Ikotun, Alausa, Ketu, Kosofe, Marina, Lekki and Surulere. Community feedback on the safety and environmental benefits has been integrated into the project. The project adopted LED lighting, which is more cost effective and energy efficient.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

In a new open access book, Peasants to Paupers: Land, Class and Kinship in Central Kenya, Peter Lockwood – former Hallsworth Fellow at The University of Manchester and now a postdoctoral researcher at the University of Goettingen – tells the human stories behind Kenya’s rapid urban expansion and the families being left behind.

The following edited extract is taken from the book’s introduction:

By Adewumi Badiora, ACRC Lagos action research lead and senior lecturer in the Department of Urban and Regional Planning at Olabisi Onabanjo University

Criminal activities have developed into a security crisis in Nigeria. Alongside the responses of security agencies such as the police and military, there has been a huge local response, with community groups mobilising in the face of criminal attacks.

For example, communities in Zamfara State, north-west region, repelled a bandit attack, causing the death of 37 bandits in August 2024. In Sokoto State, north-west region, residents rescued kidnapped individuals and recovered the body of the deceased village head in August 2024. In Kwara state, north-central region, community groups rescued people from their abductors in December 2025.

But how effective are these community-organised interventions?

I’m an urban and community safety researcher who has studied various aspects of insecurity in Nigeria, particularly in the country’s south-west, for more than a decade now.

In a recent paper I sought to answer this question in relation to Lagos. As Nigeria’s largest city with an estimated population exceeding 20 million, Lagos faces severe, complex crime challenges driven by rapid, poorly managed urbanisation and high unemployment rates. I surveyed 62 stakeholders in a bid to evaluate community-driven crime prevention strategies. Respondents included residents, members of the state and community groups who were playing important roles in the city’s security processes. This was qualitative research.

Many respondents expressed little or no trust in formal security agencies. Their expectations that the police could protect them were low.

A resident interviewed for the study said that while people like politicians got police protection, ordinary citizens did not:

“That is why everyone has devised ways to protect themselves and family.”

My research found that these community-organised interventions have emerged in different forms. The commonest is community vigilante groups. These are self-appointed resident security volunteers who take it upon themselves to confront criminals in their neighbourhood. This is common in low-income neighbourhoods of Lagos because they have to deal with crime but feel they can’t rely on the police to patrol, unlike elite neighbourhoods.

A successful urban security strategy

Lagos community vigilante groups range from small groups of volunteers on streets, and informal neighbourhood watches, to well structured local community bodies. Community vigilante members are mostly men. But women are not explicitly excluded, and they are an important source of information.

The groups were using local knowledge to help the police. They compiled information on crimes, suspicious activity and criminal suspects in their area and provided it to the police as needed. In some cases, they joined the police intelligence response team to raid hideouts of criminals in their areas.

A resident interviewed for the study said:

“We are local people. We know our community very well. We can easily spot strangers and suspicious movements. This local knowledge is what we have, that the police do not have. So, we complement their efforts by providing dependable intelligence for their work. Beyond that, we also escort police patrol, and our presence has helped them to penetrate streets they would not have been able to navigate by themselves.”

The relationship between the police and community groups was “semi-formal”. Arrangements were made by the communities with little or no intervention by the state. The collaborations were owned, structured and sustained by residents.

Some of those involved in the groups were remunerated through financial contributions by residents. However, they “occasionally” received financial support from the local government authorities, individual local politicians and donors.

Successes

My research showed there had been some positive results. Residents confirmed that the collaborations brought safety to their community and had helped to reduce crime and insecurity, particularly where the police were lacking.

A resident interviewed for the study said:

“Things are a little better. Before now, it was dreadful as criminals and hoodlums operate openly. Although there is still a long way to go, there has been a commendable level of improvements in our security in the last five years.”

Some ongoing issues

Despite its success, several concerns were raised in my study.

First, community vigilante groups are a patchwork of isolated groups. Organisations are fragmented and weak. This could be dangerous because it creates unaccountable groups that can easily change from being protectors to being a threat. That can be seen in the Bakassi Boys (south-east Nigeria), Yan Sakai (north-west Nigeria) and global examples like Mungiki (Kenya) and Autodefensas (Mexico).

Second is the question of the legality of community groups in terms of the provisions of the Nigerian constitution, the Police Act and the Public Order Act. Their legal status is “complex” as they operate in a grey area. Most of them do not have the backing of the federal government, which has the constitutional authority to manage policies regarding them.

Third, while community vigilante groups fill security gaps created by an under-resourced police force, their activities sometimes lead to conflicts because they act as judge, jury and executioner.

A police officer interviewed for the study said:

“The activities of vigilantes are usually unlawful in the way and manner they deal with suspected criminals … The lawful thing for them is to report suspected criminals to the police, but many times, they take law into their own hands.”

Still, residents view the groups as legitimate because of their perceived effectiveness, deep local knowledge, community ties and quick action.

Fourth, relationships between community groups and the police range from amiable and collaborative to distrustful and hostile. Mutual distrust risks escalating violence rather than reducing it.

A member of a vigilante group put it this way:

“We cannot totally entrust suspects and our community to the police. We have situations where suspects were released without any investigation and prosecution. Not only that, corrupt police officers do give hints to these suspects about key vigilante members behind their arrests, and these criminals go all-out for them after their unlawful freedom from the police custody.”

Moving forward

To overcome the challenges, the following steps should be taken:

> Reform of Nigeria’s security governance, allowing states to create their own police forces;

> Formal recognition and support of community groups;

> Adopting policies to curb the proliferation of the groups;

> Working more closely with community groups to deal with some of the underlying reasons for insecurity. These include political negligence, youth unemployment, poverty and inequality.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.